


We Got A Case

by rafamarkos5998



Series: I Can See Clearly Now (The Rage Has Gone) [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood: Lost Days, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Case Fic, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason has a challenge for Tim, M/M, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Smart Tim Drake, Suicidal Thoughts, Tim Drake is Robin, Wish Fulfillment, also the ship is in its infancy, and Tim vows to give it to him, and rise like jason, because, because I'm bad at writing it, because I'm projecting hard and giving myself some, but nothing major happens here, but still, by proxy, no beta we die like robins, of sorts, so it'll take time to blossom, vent fic, very little actual detective work, why is this not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafamarkos5998/pseuds/rafamarkos5998
Summary: Jason is trying to figure out what to do with himself, in the event that he can't just do away with himself.Tim and Talia are concerned.
Relationships: Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Members of the Team (Young Justice), Tim Drake & Talia al Ghul, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: I Can See Clearly Now (The Rage Has Gone) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020462
Comments: 21
Kudos: 194





	We Got A Case

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to continue this story thread, but I needed to do something that didn't involve attempting to cut my stomach open after nearly a week of my mom insulting me for getting slightly overweight since the pandemic struck. I hope it's not too scatterbrained.
> 
> I'm sorry if the Tim/Jason broke the fic for you... I'm normally fine with Robincest since I don't see them as siblings, but YMMV.

As Jason woke up, all he could think of for the first few minutes was how unnecessarily bright the light was.

It was a warm, bright yellow glow, indicating that it was probably sunlight coming in through a window he couldn't see yet.

The bed he was on was comfortable, and the sheets had a minty smell to them.

_Talia._

He felt... drained. His muscles felt like putty.

Why was he here?

As if on cue, the memories came crashing back into him.

The Tower. The new Robin. Batman. Talia. Joker.

_The Joker's dead._

The Joker was dead, at Talia's hand.

She killed the monster, for his sake.

She killed for his sake.

She killed-

"Jason."

His head shot up at the direction of the sound. It took a second to come into focus, but it appeared to be an open door. Someone was standing at the threshold.

"Mom?"

The figure came up to him, and as his sight came closer to normal, he could see that he had been correct.

Talia sat down on the king-sized bed next to him, running a hand through his hair.

"How do you feel, Habibi?"

"...Fine."

Talia merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"Drained. Hollow. Uncertain."

Talia's face remained impassive.

"Relieved. Thankful. Unafraid."

The smile on her face was all the answer he needed.

"Thank you, Mom."

"I did what I had to, Habibi. And I beg your forgiveness, for not getting rid of him earlier."

"I was the one who told you not to."

"And I should have told you then what I shall tell you now - my first duty is to keep you safe, and my second is to keep you happy."

"I'm not sure I would have believed you. And even if I did, I'm not sure I would have cared."

"As I said, it would be my duty to keep you safe. And I am sure your brother would assist in that endeavour."

Jason grinned. She was right, but he wouldn't admit it. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

In any case, he didn't have to tell her. She already knew.

Jason relaxed back into the soft cushions, as the sunlight streamed into the room.

"What now?" Talia's question brings his thoughts back into full gear.

What now, indeed? His mission as the Hood was done, Batman had rejected him. Where could he go next?

"Do not fret, my son. You have time to think about it."

She runs her hand through his hair one last time, before getting up and leaving.

In the process, she also cuffed his foot to the frame.

"Really, Talia?"

"You put yourself at Batman's mercy and planned to blow yourself and the Joker up, about-" she looked at her watch "-thirty-eight hours ago. Forgive me if I don't believe in your ability to take care of yourself, at least for now."

Jason grimaced. Talia's expression softened.

"It's only going to be there for a while, Habibi. It is to keep you safe."

"And what about happiness?"

"That's the second priority, remember?"

Jason laughed out loud in response.

"I hate you, T."

"No, you don't."

* * *

Tim stood before the nondescript apartment door, as the nameplate stared back at him.

_Talia Head_  
_Jason Peter Head_

Ordinarily, he would have dismissed it, but recalling what M'gann had said about the incident with the Joker...

He imagined that he would have to deal with her before he got a chance to see Jason.

Steeling himself, he raised his hand and rung the bell.

He began counting the seconds.

...10...

...15...

...20...

...25...

...27, 28 - the door opened.

He didn't know what he was preparing for, but seeing Talia al Ghul wearing a t-shirt and leggings was definitely _not_ it.

"Timothy Drake."

"Talia Head."

The woman before him laughed, shaking her head.

"If you don't mind, I need to see Jason."

"Oh, I do mind."

"I assure you, Batman doesn't know I'm here. I've made sure he's not tracking me."

"And why should I trust you?"

"...Jason was my hero."

Talia nodded, and Tim took that as a sign to continue.

"I might have taken on the Robin costume to try and stop Bruce from killing himself, but Jason has always been my hero."

"And now?"

"I want to know why he... why he became like this."

"Then the first course of action I can suggest would be to stop pretending to have a moral high ground."

"He's a murderer."

"As I said, you need to stop looking down on him. I know enough about you to know that you're smarter than that."

Tim didn't really have an answer. _What does she want me to say?_

"Do you agree?"

"To what?"

"Not judging my son for having different opinions."

"Different opinions on murder?"

"Different opinions on _justice_."

Tim didn't really have an answer to that.

"I don't know if I can ignore that. That's not what heroes do."

"What heroes do and what heroes should do are vastly different things. Can you try to have the humility to accept that he can be right?"

Could he? Yeah, he probably could.

"Yes?" Talia's voice carries an undercurrent of impatience. _Oh no._

Tim nodded vigorously.

"Good. This way."

Whew. That went well.

* * *

As Tim stepped into the room, the rational side of his brain screamed that this was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Jason was sitting upright on the bed, reading a book.

The cover facing him read... _Persuasion_ , and the author was _Jane Austen_.

He dimly remembered Bruce telling him how Jason used to quote _Pride and Prejudice_ when he was... with him.

Shaking his head, he sat down next to the ex-Robin, which was when he noticed that one of Jason's legs was cuffed to the bed.

"Why are you chained to the bed?"

Jason looked up, surprise lining his face.

Tim was about to backpedal and apologise, but the boy lying on the bed beat him to the punch.

"I'm essentially on suicide watch."

Tim swallowed heavily.

"You look like you saw a ghost, Babybird."

_Babybird? What was that about?_

Tim shook his head and decided to proceed with his original goal.

"I wanted to... see you. And hopefully, bring you back."

"Back to what, exactly?"

"The team. Your team. They deserve that, don't they? Even if Bruce doesn't?

Jason's expression hardened.

"Jason?"

"No."

"They miss you a lot, Jason. Your death hit them very hard."

"Fat chance. They hated me for existing. They didn't like the idea of me replacing Dick Grayson."

Jason grimaced as if something had just crossed his mind.

"Then again, considering that they love you, that's probably on me."

"That's not true, Jason." Tim blurted out. "Connor, M'gann, Dick, Wally... Everyone misses you."

"Yeah, let's agree to disagree on that. You don't know, you weren't there. I would dare them to spout their bullshit to my face, but then again, I never want to see them again."

"You don't know what they were like when you were... gone."

"Oh Babybird, I _do_ know. Talia told me everything."

"She's a villain. The Daughter of the Demon, the child of Ra's al Ghul himself. And you trust her?"

"Yes. Because she's the only person who cared enough to give me justice."

Why was that the only yardstick Jason was willing to measure them by?

Tim wants to shake some sense into his... brother? Role model? It's hard to say.

"Why did you want Bruce to kill the Joker? You know how much Batman matters to him. You know that he _can't_ kill. And even then, you tried to force his hand?"

"I didn't force him to do anything. He had the choice of not killing the Joker, it just comes at the cost of me cutting him out of my life."

"I don't understand, Jason. Bruce loves you. And you still love him, I know. Why are you making this so hard on him?"

"Because that love isn't worth anything if he won't even try to give me justice."

"Killing him would be vengeance, not justice."

"Vengeance is what we have left when the law fails to give justice. Tell me, will the Joker ever be punished for killing me?"

Tim grits his teeth.

"Go ahead, tell me."

"No. But-"

"So I'm just supposed to live with the knowledge that the Joker beat me to death for a joke, and there is no price he has to pay for that?"

"Batman broke nearly all his bones the next time they met."

"Batman breaks all of the Joker's bones when he's having an off day thanks to the shareholder's meeting that lasted more than an hour. The point remains - he killed me, and it changed _nothing_."

_No, it changed everything._

Tim tried a different approach.

"What's the point of holding onto that? Wouldn't it be better to-"

"Move on? Get over it, like Barbara did? After all, I'm alive and kicking, so no actual harm was done, eh?"

"No, I didn't mean that-"

"If all you want to do is blame me for no reason to make yourself feel better, then I guess you are the perfect Robin after all. You're exactly like Bruce. And a bit like Dick."

"Bruce doesn't blame his Robins without cause."

Jason seemed like he had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but his expression shifted inexplicably.

"Jason?"

"Okay, Babybird, here's a little test to see if you are actually worth talking to."

Tim wanted to bristle at the dismissive tone, but he bit his lip and nodded.

"It might sound like I'm being unfair, but I guess it's the only way you'll see that it's pointless for you to talk to me."

_Yeah, get on with it already. You don't need to rehearse your Shakespearean monologues here._

"I ask you three questions. For each correct answer, you get twenty minutes of my time to make your case for me to see the team again. If you get all three of them wrong, you leave."

Tim nodded.

"First one - what happened to Felipe Garzonas?"

Tim remembered the case. It was the one that had gotten Jason benched some time before he died.

"You pushed him off the balcony."

Jason clicked his teeth, then cocked his head to the side.

"Honestly, there's not much of a chance for you on that case. I guess we'll take a pass on that one."

Tim hated having unanswered questions, but he gritted his teeth and kept playing along.

"First, for realsies this time - what did Bruce say to me that made me leave for Ethiopia?"

"...He accused you of murder? Called you violent?"

Jason clicked his teeth again. It sounded more decisive this time.

"Strike one. Second question - why did I enter the warehouse where the Joker was?"

"You wanted to prove to Batman that he was wrong to bench you. And it went to shit."

"Strike two. Third question - when and how did I come back to life?"

"...Given what we know of your fighting style, I'm guessing that you were brought back a year ago, two at most. By the Lazarus Pit, most likely."

"Strike three. Sorry, you gotta go."

"But-"

"Rules are rules. You agreed to the terms."

He failed, yet again. Head hanging in shame, he got up to leave.

But before he could go, Jason grabbed his hand.

"Look, Babybird. I didn't mean to be overly harsh, and I'm sorry if I came off that way. You're a good kid. You have everything I ever wanted, back when I was Robin. I don't think I can... be fair to you. Now, or ever. I'm sorry."

Tim nodded, unable to properly process what his childhood star had just said.

"Goodbye, babybird."

Jason settled back into the pillows, and was soon asleep. Tim slowly got up, extricated his arm and left.

* * *

Tim sat before the screen, trying to piece the mysteries together.

"Tim? What is that?"

Turning around, Tim saw Kon standing over his shoulder.

"What are these for, Tim?"

"I went to see Jason."

Kon bristled for but a fraction of a second, but Tim was a Bat. He saw it as clearly as he saw the Kryptonian himself.

"I wanted to bring him back."

"He's a murderer."

"He's a vigilante. And more importantly, he was Robin."

"He came here to try and kill you!"

"And he left us unharmed, and tried to kill himself, Kon! And Bruce did _nothing_!"

Kon paused at that outburst. Tim took the opening.

"Look, we might disagree on how to deal with criminals, but Jason was one of us. And he feels like we didn't care about the fact that he was killed. To make things worse, the only person who's tried to give him what he wants and needs is Talia al Ghul, and what does that say about us?"

"We can't just kill people!"

"We didn't try to give him justice either! Are you trying to say that punching people is all we are capable of? That we couldn't have tried to ensure that the Joker was punished for his crimes? Are you saying that the best we can hope to do is put the villains into Belle Reve or whatever prison Amanda Waller is running now and hope for the best?"

"Where is this coming from, Tim?"

Tim remained silent.

"Tim?"

"Jason told me that I could talk to him if I got the answers to three questions."

"That little shit... always so dramatic."

Tim grinned. "Yeah, it felt like that to me too. But then again, I didn't get any of them right."

"What did he ask?"

"Look here." Tim pointed at the leftmost monitor, that had a document open with three neatly formatted questions at the top and rambling notes below.

As Conner squinted to look closer ( _stop using that goddamn tiny font size Tim, I can barely see this with Kryptonian vision_ ), he inhaled sharply.

"There are four questions." Clearly, Conner planned to dodge the point for as long as possible.

"The first one doesn't count, apparently, because we don't have any evidence and cannot get any evidence. Bruce, in his brilliant wisdom, refused to actually gather evidence on the case."

Connor didn't say anything.

"I'm guessing you went through the notes as well?"

"...Yes."

"And?"

"What now?"

"We got a case. We solve it."

* * *

The first step, obviously, was to go to Bruce.

"Bruce. We need to talk."

Thankfully, he caught Bruce after he was done with the night's patrol. When he entered the cave, he saw the man hunched over the computer, going over old case files.

His mentor turned towards him, his expression reserved but questioning.

_Here we go._

"Do you have five minutes?"

"I do." Bruce, thankfully, didn't sound like he was in a bad mood.

"I had a question about Jason."

"...Go ahead."

"Why did he try looking for his mother?"

"...I do not know."

"Please, Bruce, I need you to be honest with me."

"I'm not sure why you would say that. I don't know why he left. Why is this coming up now, anyway?"

"Bruce, Jason was happy with you. You were his dad. He wouldn't suddenly go looking for his birth mother without telling you out of the blue."

"I'm sure I don't understand what you're trying to say here, Tim."

"I'm saying that something happened, and no matter whose fault it was, it had something to do with you."

A flash of guilt passed through Bruce's face, but it soon vanished, only to be replaced by the typical mask of righteous obstinacy.

"Bruce. What did you say?"

"Nothing of import."

"Bruce, please don't do this."

"It is of no concern of yours, Timothy. Now, if you don't mind, I have some cases I need to go over."

Bruce turned away, in a clear sign on dismissal.

Unfortunately, Tim had come prepared for something like this.

* * *

As he plunged the syringe into Bruce's neck and depressed the plunger, he hoped that his mentor would forgive him for this.

Bruce's body slumped over the keyboard, it took Tim over a minute to put him down on the floor.

_Oof... how on earth is he that heavy?_

Tim got into the chair. He had wanted to sit in it for a long time now, but it felt sinister now, not exhilarating as it should have.

He opened the folder that contained all the Cave footage and went back through the playlist on fast forward. Snippets of audio came through the speakers, echoing through the cave.

"...Good job, Tim. You did really well..."

"...I don't need that now, Alfred..."

"...I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need teenage rebellion."

_Wait what?_

He stopped the playback and moved to the point he had just found.

Jason and Bruce were standing in the Cave, clearly arguing about something.

As Tim hit play, he tried to ignore the tremor in his hands.

"I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need teenage rebellion."

_No. It can't be._

Bruce loved Jason. He had mourned him, driven himself nearly to death in his grief. He couldn't have done that.

Could he?

Tim knew that Bruce had trouble expressing his emotions about other people. He also knew that Bruce often had too much pride to actually apologise even when it was clear that he had fucked up.

Gritting his teeth, Tim whipped out a small notepad from his belt.

Picking up the pen on the desk, he made a note.

"A1 - Because Bruce said he was not your father."

Putting the notebook beside the keyboard, he got back to his research.

_Strike one._

* * *

Tim leaned back into the chair, as Sheila Haywood's file photo stared back at him.

There was something here, he knew it. His instincts were screaming at him.

A surgeon who went to Ethiopia to work with a refugee camp. Died after she and her biological son fell victim to the Joker.

Why was she there?

It would have made sense for Jason to have gone in to take out the Joker if he was alone. But he wouldn't put an innocent woman at risk for his pride.

Jason always put the people first.

Which meant that Sheila Haywood had something to do with the Joker there.

The easiest way to look into that was to look at her finances. Money always talked, in more ways than one.

He ran a search through her bank statements and pulled up a bunch of documents containing a list of her possessions at the time of her death.

Okay, so she was making around $50,000 a year... well, that was kinda low for a doctor of her calibre, but probably all the charity could afford.

Well, that meant that her assets should total to somewhere between $50,000 and $100,000.

He looked at the list of assets that her will contained and... yep, that was it.

A couple houses, each worth about $500,000. In Ethiopia. In PPP terms, most millionaires didn't buy houses that expensive in the USA.

A car worth $100,000. A TV worth $30,000.

Hell, Tim could barely justify that kind of expense today, about five years later. Bruce had refused to let him waste money on 8K TVs he could scarcely utilise to their fullest.

Which meant that she was getting funds illegally.

He looked into the charity that was smuggling the Joker Venom that Bruce had gone after, and... yep, that checked out too.

The same one that Sheila was working at.

Which meant that she had probably been stealing funds from the charity to get the money for her assets.

Which meant that she was probably working with the Joker.

But given that this information was something he had obtained only through seeing her assets being valued after her death, it was unlikely Jason could have known that.

Bruce could have, though. At least afterwards.

But he didn't bother to investigate.

He looked at Sheila's autopsy.

Death by exsanguination, possibly due to wound in the femoral artery sustained due to a building collapse.

No other signs of trauma.

When combined with the previous conclusion of Joker working with Sheila, a pretty good guess could be made.

Sheila worked with the Joker to betray Jason and get him killed.

Yeah, he didn't really have further details, and only one of the parties involved in that tragedy was alive now, but he did have a pretty good picture of the important parts.

Jason would be able to explain the rest (most importantly, why Sheila had remained in the warehouse after the Joker had left).

_Strike two._

* * *

As Bruce woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was in bed.

The second thing he noticed was that he was no longer in his Batman costume.

The third thing he noticed was Tim sitting in a chair next to the bed, typing away on a laptop.

"Tim?"

His voice was dry and hoarse, as though he had been dehydrated for a long time.

"Tim? What happened?"

He had been at the Batcomputer, dodging uncomfortable questions from his Robin, and then...

A pain in his neck. A syringe.

"Sorry, Bruce."

Tim had knocked him out.

"I had to do it, Bruce, I needed to know."

"Know what?"

"What happened with Jason."

Oh.

"I promise you, Tim, whatever it is you saw, I did not-"

"Bruce, I know you love him. It doesn't change the fact that you never took your words back."

Bruce felt the shame swallow the rest of the words in his throat.

"Look, I'm not interested in that part anymore. I've gotten whatever information I needed."

"Then what is this conversation about?"

"Two things. First - why did you not investigate Sheila Haywood?"

"There was nothing to investigate."

"Or rather, you could not bring yourself to look into the case, because you might find something you didn't like."

"There was nothing to find, Tim. She died with Jason when he went into that damned warehouse to take on the Joker."

"You see, I don't think that's what happened."

Bruce felt the blood in his veins freeze.

"Sheila Haywood left the USA after a botched illegal operation killed the patient, a young teenage girl. She went to Ethiopia, working for a charity that didn't have problems with hiring a doctor with her background as long as she didn't ask for a huge salary."

Tim's tone became colder as he went on.

"But she was fine with working there because the operation was run inefficiently enough for her to be able to embezzle its funds for her benefit. Which was why she owned a $100,000 Porsche."

Bruce felt the hairs on his skin rise.

"The charity that was funnelling the Joker Venom was the one she was working for. She was the one who cleared the inventory that turned out to be the clown's fucked-up excuse for laughing gas."

"What are you getting at, Tim?"

"You always told me that Jason got himself killed through his need to prove himself. You kept going between blaming yourself and blaming him for it. And everyone else, including me, let you do it."

"I didn't know-"

"That Haywood was working with the Joker? Yeah, I know. You could have, though."

"How? There was nothing-"

"Her body showed no signs of trauma apart from the concrete that crushed her legs and cut into her femoral artery. And her assets were absurdly inflated relative to her income, something you should have seen since you are one of the witnesses who was apparently present during the execution of her will."

Bruce found himself unable to speak.

"Look, the time for repairing that is past. Jason's here, and the Joker is dead."

"Then why are we discussing this?"

"Because I don't want him to leave Gotham believing that we all hate him. That none of us cared for him as anything apart from a tool for our grief. He deserves better than that."

Bruce nodded. He could do that.

"I need to look at Jason's grave."

* * *

"Master Timothy, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I am."

Silence descended on them again, as Master Timothy kept his hands on the control board of the compact excavator.

A block of clay came up and remained suspended in the giant claws of the machine as Master Timothy went ahead with a portable scanner to look through the soil for abnormalities.

After a few seconds, he shook his head, came back to the control panel, and pushed a button to proceed with the procedure.

The claws deposited the recently dug earth next to the grave and went back into the hole to dig out more. And the cycle repeated itself.

This process was carried out about three or four times before Master Timothy got a positive result on the scanner.

Coming back to the panel, he hit a different button, which caused the newly dug earth to be deposited on the undisturbed side of the grave.

As the excavator slowly spread the material out over a larger area than the mound of rejected dirt, Master Timothy went ahead to inspect his findings.

Alfred gripped Master Bruce's hands, in a show of support.

This was hard on his... ward? Charge? Son? He had no idea, who was trembling visibly.

Master Bruce gripped his hand back, but did not say a word.

Master Timothy used his tweezers to pick something from the soil. It looked like... a piece of wood.

There were bloodstains on it.

_No, it can't be..._

Master Timothy put the wood piece into a clear evidence bag and came back to the excavator. He looked visibly shaken this time. He shook his head and went ahead with his plan.

The excavator pulled out another mound of earth, and this, too, gave a positive result.

This time, two bigger, bloodier pieces of wood were present.

_It can't be. It can't._

Master Timothy put them into evidence bags of their own, before going ahead with another round of digging.

As the third mound came up, Master Timothy went ahead and looked into the hole.

"We should be about there. Alfred, Bruce, could you put the hook down into the hole and bring up the coffin? I'm going to look through this sample here."

Alfred nodded wordlessly. He noticed Master Bruce doing the same.

With the portable crane that Master Bruce had built for... Master Jason, the two of them hooked the young man's coffin and brought it up.

Alfred felt thankful for the equipment. He didn't want to go into his grandson's grave.

Once it had been brought out, the two of them inhaled sharply.

The coffin had a huge hole in it.

A hole that bent _outwards_ from the coffin.

_He dug himself out._

Alfred felt a sickness rising inside him.

He looked to the side and watched as Master Timothy put some... thin white strips into an evidence bag.

Fingernails. They were fingernails.

"My God..."

"Yeah. That's what happened, I guess."

Master Timothy went to the bag he had brought and pulled out their portable DNA analysis machine.

He took one of the pieces of wood he had obtained and scraped off some of the blood. He put the residue into the machine, and it began whirring up.

"Why are we testing that?" Master Bruce's voice was wavering, just like it had all those years ago.

"For completeness' sake. We have a sample from the Red Hood too, thanks to your previous analysis, so we should be able to put this together just fine."

They waited in silence, as the machine processed the sample they had fed into it.

"Analysis complete. Closest match - Jason Peter Todd. Alternative match - Red Hood."

Master Timothy grit his teeth.

"Strike three."

* * *

As Tim walked into Jason's room, he noticed that despite it being a ridiculously late hour, the lights were still on.

For some reason, Jason was sitting on the window sill, looking out at the city below.

"Are you allowed to be there?"

Jason turned to face him, and Tim wondered if he'd gone too far.

The ex-Robin smiled, and Tim breathed a bit easier.

"I got the cuffs off. Talia decided to humour me."

"She trusts you."

"Yeah, she does. More than anyone else."

They fell silent after that.

"Why are you here, Babybird?"

"I think I can answer your three questions."

Jason turned around fully and motioned towards a pair of chairs near them.

Tim nodded in assent, and sat down.

"I guess you remember the questions, Babybird, so go ahead."

"You left to find your mother because Bruce effectively disowned you, and never took his words back."

Jason grimaced as if the memory had caused physical pain.

Tim had only seen that expression on his face a few times now, but he hated it with a passion.

"I was angry about how he was handling the Garzonas case." Jason's voice was soft, tentative, unlike their previous conversations. "Funny how it's all about Garzonas to Bruce, huh? He acted as if... Gloria' didn't matter at all."

Tim had no idea what to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

"We were going after some drug runners, and I... broke one guy's collarbone. Bruce... wasn't happy. We fought."

Jason swallowed thickly as if he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't even remember what we said to each other... isn't that funny? All I remember is that one line. 'I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need teenage rebellion.'"

Jason shook his head.

"Guess it was just a matter of time... once he realised I could never be as good as the Golden Boy, he gave up."

Tim wanted to deny that, he did, but he bit into his lip and stopped himself. Talking about how much Bruce had missed him when he was dead would be tantamount to pouring salt on the wound.

What good is love given when you are gone?

Jason looked at him, a questioning expression on his face.

_Oh. Right._

"You went into the warehouse because Sheila Haywood tricked you. She was working with the Joker, but I don't have much more information than that."

"She told me that the Joker was gone, lured me in. And when I had followed her, she put a gun to my head and handed me over to the Joker. She watched him beat me up, even smoked a few cigarettes during the whole thing. Virginia Slims, if my memory serves."

Tim felt sick to his stomach.

What kind of mother would trade away her own child?

Yes, Sheila Haywood had given Jason up for adoption after he was born, but it still felt... unreal. It felt wrong.

"Then, the Joker hit her leg, broke it. Left her to die in the warehouse with me.

Ah, that would explain why she had been present in the warehouse at all and had no other injuries.

"Keep going, Babybird."

"You came out of your grave. We don't know why, and I doubt you do either, but you clawed through the coffin. We know that because we found... fingernails. In the soil."

Jason closed his eyes, and Tim saw him shudder.

"We don't know what happened after, but I guess Talia's people found you in Gotham."

"Yeah. I remember being hit by a car and fighting some guys in an alley, but not much else. According to Talia, I was wandering the streets of Gotham for a few months at least, judging by the state of my clothes. Extrapolating from there, Talia guessed I was revived somewhere between six and eight months after I died. Her people took me about twenty months after my death."

Jason was alive in Gotham a year after he died.

"I was with her for a few more months, as she took care of me. She thought I could get better normally, without the Pit. When I wasn't getting better, Ra's threatened to kill me. With no options left, she threw me into the Pit."

Tim found himself unable to process the rest.

Jason was alive in Gotham a year after he died.

Tim felt the guilt rise in him.

"What's wrong, Babybird?"

"I should have noticed."

"Bullshit. You were just a kid. There was no way you could have known."

"A kid who tried following every single step you took. I was following Batman more than ever before at that time. I should have noticed you."

"Tim." A hand fell onto his shoulder and dragged him forward.

Soon, he was enveloped by Jason.

"Listen closely, Babybird. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. If anything, it was mine, for coming back in the first place."

Tim bristled at the thought. "What the hell does that mean?"

"If what you said is true... they loved me when I was dead. And I ruined it."

"No. No, Jason. No. You can't say that."

"It's true. The only person who wants me alive is Talia."

"No, Jason. Please, don't say that."

Jason remained silent.

"I want you alive, Jason. I do. Please, don't do anything stupid. Please."

Jason took a deep breath.

"Jason?"

"Okay, Babybird, I won't."

"Promise me."

"Babybird, that isn't necessary-"

"You just said that nobody wants you alive. Like _hell_ it isn't necessary."

"Okay, I promise. Happy?"

Tim hugged him tighter. "Only for now."

* * *

After Jason had gone back to bed, Tim left the room, fully intending to go back to the Tower.

But before he could slip out, Talia found him.

"Mr Drake."

"Please, call me Timothy."

"As you wish." Talia's smile was vicious. "I can't in good conscience let a guest leave on an empty stomach. Please, have a cup of tea."

Tim's first instinct was to refuse, but he bit it back and agreed instead. Insulting Talia al Ghul would probably not go well for him.

Not to mention that Jason cared for her, almost like she was a mother.

Which she probably was.

Shaking his head, he seated himself near the tea table, where Talia had a set laid out, probably in anticipation of his arrival.

Or she could have wanted to drink her own tea out of that and had called him just because he had come into view. She was an al Ghul, it was likely that she was rich enough to regularly use something as elaborate as that tea set.

Talia poured out a cup and handed it to him on a small tray.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

They both drank their tea in silence, as the moonlight softly streamed in through the balcony.

Tim found it rather peaceful.

Talia was the first to break the silence.

"You love him."

Tim didn't bother denying it. It wasn't a question, after all.

"You've never seen him before."

"I have, actually. For years. When he was Robin."

"He's no longer that person."

"He fights for victims who would otherwise go unseen. He fights Batman when the situation calls for it. He won't let anyone else tell him what the right course of action is. That's pretty much what he did when he was Robin."

"Except the killing."

"Yes, except the killing. I'm not egotistical enough to believe that our no-kill rule is based on anything but optimism and fear."

Talia raised an eyebrow.

"Bruce might say that not killing people is objectively the right course of action, but I'm sure he knows that's nowhere close to an objective decision. It's just faith in the idea of redemption, combined with fear of himself. Something that applies to all of us in the hero community."

"And why is Jason different?"

"He has faith in himself. He trusts himself to know who is the right target to kill, and dares to stick by his decisions."

Talia smiled. "You admire him. Even now."

"He came to our base to hurt me, but left without doing anything. Even though he was probably pissed at me for taking what belonged to him."

"I must apologise for that. I was the one who pushed him down that road."

Tim remained silent but inclined his head questioningly.

"I showed him a picture of you with Batman, a few weeks after I had put him in the Lazarus. I was angry at Bruce myself, and I wanted to destroy him. To make him feel something akin to the pain I endure every day."

"I'm guessing the baby is his?"

"No. Damian is _mine_." Her voice was low and dangerous, and Tim felt the hairs on his skin rise at the obvious threat. "Bruce gave up all rights to him when he left me. And holding on to his moral code at the expense of his son's well-being cost him his chance at redemption."

"That doesn't sound fair."

"Neither was his choice to use me as a tool to ease his grief, but here we are."

Tim couldn't argue with that.

"There's something special about you, Timothy. Jason hated you, but he managed to let go of that after seeing you."

Tim felt his face going pink. "I'm flattered."

"I think you might be a good influence for him. He needs more people around him that value him. Preferably people who won't try to use him in the process."

"I'm not sure you are a part of that list."

"You can be."

Tim didn't know how to respond to that. He felt like this conversation had become about something else altogether, but he couldn't place exactly what.

"I want you to stay around. Help him find something to live for again."

"...Okay."

Talia reclined back into her chair, seemingly satisfied.

They continued sipping their tea in the quiet night.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably be working on my other fics, but I wasn't in a position to be able to do so. I would have normally put this as a separate story, but my last vent fic is still fresh in my head and I decided to continue it here.
> 
> Again, if the Tim/Jason pairing broke the fic for you, I humbly apologize. I just desperately wanted to write those scenes with those characters.


End file.
